


Just Like You

by JuxtaposeFantasy



Category: Chinese Actor RPF
Genre: Dom/sub, Event Yibo, Headmaster porn, M/M, Red Carpet Yibo, Self-cest, Spanking, Weibo Night 2020, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29758575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuxtaposeFantasy/pseuds/JuxtaposeFantasy
Summary: Red carpet!Yibo is young and playful and in a lot of trouble with his Master, the intimidating event!Yibo known as Sir. This is a fantasy self-cest fic featuring both versions of Yibo from Weibo Night 2020.
Relationships: Wang Yi Bo/Wang Yi Bo
Comments: 10
Kudos: 30





	Just Like You

**Author's Note:**

> This is a weird fic, not gonna lie, but I had fun trying to create some kind of world where these two could interact. Inspired and requested by horny peeps on Twitter like Zi Mama and the YiboxYibo account.

“Will he be watching?”

Yibo glanced back at his friend, Zitao, and shrugged. “Probably.”

“Probably,” the older man mocked. Yibo hid a smile as Zitao came up behind his shoulder and said into his ear, “He’s always watching you, Yeebs. You two have some weird thing going on.”

“It’s not weird.” Yibo brushed his shoulder as though brushing off Zitao’s contamination. “You’re just jealous.”

“Jealous of that outfit he put you in?” Zitao, who was dressed ‘cool’ as he’d told Yibo himself, smirked. “You can keep your weird relationship with him. You two were made for each other.”

“Yes,” Yibo said softly and with satisfaction, “we are.”

He put his phone away, not sending the last text to Sir, figuring the other man would figure out in a few moments anyway. Sometimes action said everything that words couldn’t. Yibo fiddled with the miniature Chanel purse hanging from his waist, a useless thing that Yibo would wear only at Sir’s behest. This entire outfit, as Zitao had pointed out, was all kinds of silly…and yet it wasn’t. Because Sir had shopped for every piece, his mind on Yibo the entire time, and he wanted to see Yibo in this. That was more than flattering. That made Yibo want to scream with joy. Sir cared. Sir cared a lot.

“Wang Yibo,” called out the producer, “you’re up.”

Yibo wasn’t fond of red carpet events, especially the step and repeat, where he had to pause and pose for photographers. But Sir had sent him on alone while Sir remained behind at the academy. Yibo suspected it was something of a test, his biggest event to attend alone. He didn’t want to screw it up and disappoint the headmaster, but…Yibo had his mischievous side.

With a stoic expression, he strode out onto the red carpet. Zitao catcalled him playfully and Yibo should have ignored him. It would have been easy to. But that bug was in his ear and instead of pretending he hadn’t heard his friend, he looked back over his shoulder at Zitao and grinned. 

As Yibo posed for the cameras, he regained the composure that Sir had trained into him and held his hand up, his expression solemn and dignified despite the absurdity of his outfit. But as he was walking past the hosts, he couldn’t help looking back a second time and smirking at Zitao. Yibo made sure he did it while in full view of the camera.

The event that would follow would be dry and stuffy or worse, the hosts would try to make him act foolish and play with toys or some nonsense. Yibo had no intention of attending. He had the feeling Sir didn’t really expect him to attend, either. He’d played his part and modeled Sir’s outfit. It was time to return home.

Sir’s driver and private car drove him back to the academy grounds. There was still enough sunlight out to illuminate the vast grounds with their rolling green fields and distant hedge of trees. The school itself was a white confection, a gleaming cake with towering Greek columns. The headmaster’s mansion was different, constructed of red brick. It reminded Yibo somewhat of a quaint European village. Maybe that was the inspiration for his outfit. 

As he peered out the window, he discovered that Sir was outside waiting for him. Quite abruptly, Yibo’s heart began to pound.

When Yibo had left the mansion earlier that afternoon, Sir had been dressed casually in trousers and a vest over a white shirt. But while Yibo was away he’d changed into all black. The combination of black, form-fitting garments and equally dark hair shorn high and tight with a majestic spill near the forehead was enough to unnerve the boldest students. Yibo, who knew Sir better than any of the other boys, felt no more confident than they as he carefully climbed out of the car.

“Hello, Sir,” he greeted respectfully as he approached the other man. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“You didn’t stay for the event,” Sir said coldly. Truthfully, he spoke in his normal tone, but everything about Sir on the surface seemed cool and distant and never failed to send a shiver of delight and trepidation up Yibo’s spine.

“I had a feeling they were going to make me participate in some dumb stunt,” Yibo replied.

“Mn.”

Sir, though the same height as Yibo, nonetheless managed to look down his nose at him. Or maybe it was that Yibo’s legs had begun to shake, rendering him just a tiny bit shorter.

“I saw what you did,” Sir said quietly. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice, or did you intend that I did so?”

“I don’t know what you mean, sir.” Yibo licked his lips as his ‘fun’ plan began to dissolve into something less fun and more nerve-wracking.

“Don’t you?”

The distance in Sir’s eyes seemed unfathomable. His cold beauty rendered him untouchable. Yibo knew he wasn’t. He knew this intimately. But the impression remained after all this time, and it still tipped his heartbeat into overdrive with yearning.

“I’m sorry,” Yibo whispered, conceding the truth. “Zitao, he—”

“Are you making an excuse for your behavior?”

Yibo shook his head. “No, sir.”

“The only thing you’ve done correctly so far,” Sir murmured.

Yibo swayed toward him. “Please, sir, let me make it up to you.”

“You will make it up to me. Later. Follow me.”

Sir turned and walked into the mansion without a glance back to ensure that Yibo followed. But of course Yibo would follow him. Yibo would do anything for him. Self-consciously adjusting his beret, he hurried after the other man.

Sir led him to the library, with its floor to ceiling paned windows and dark bookshelves hoarding tomes none of the other students were allowed to see. Yibo had not only read them, he’d recited them back to Sir while naked and bound in various positions. He’d enacted the illustrations and painted the pages with his semen. He’d memorized poems which still made him blush.

The tall, leatherback chair beside one of the windows was Sir’s favorite. It was one of Yibo’s favorite places, too, for sex. It was also the chair he dreaded most. Today, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it as he watched Sir gracefully lower himself onto the gleaming red leather and look up at him from behind steepled fingers.

“You were a disobedient boy today.”

It was a statement that didn’t require a response, but Yibo felt compelled to nod. Sir always appreciated taking responsibility for one’s own actions.

“You were _deliberately_ disobedient,” Sir went on.

His eyes were dark. Penetrating. The cute little outfit he’d put Yibo into was no barrier against them. Yibo felt naked, young, and very, very horny.

“Sir, I’m sorry for not behaving better.”

“You were in front of cameras. Representing me.”

Yibo cringed. In hindsight, he hadn’t really thought this out. “Yes, sir.”

“I could send you to muck the stables. Barefoot.”

Yibo suppressed a groan. It was his most hated punishment. “If Sir thinks that I should, then I will.”

Sir looked him over slowly. Despite his coldness, heat rimmed his eyes. He appreciated the beret and the short pants, Yibo realized. Sir thought he was cute. 

“It would be a waste,” Sir murmured, confirming Yibo’s hopes. Perhaps his plan had played out exactly as he’d wanted and they’d end up in bed, having rough sex with Sir pinning him down by his throat. “But you deserve punishment, boy. You’re not getting away with your little act.” He raised a brow. “How did you expect me to react to it? I’m curious.”

Yibo toed the floor, playing up his little prince façade. “I thought Sir might find enjoyment holding me down and having his way with me. With his boy.”

“I would and I will, but that’s hardly punishment,” Sir scoffed. He lowered his hands to the armrests and narrowed his eyes. “But I’ll give you half of what you want and half of what I want. I’m a kind Master, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” Yibo said, nodding emphatically. His hard-on pressed urgently against the placket of his jeans. “Anything you want from me, sir.”

“Over my lap.”

Yibo stared at him. They hadn’t done this before. It might be seen as odd, since they’d done so much of everything else, but ritual punishment had been avoided up to now. Yibo wondered if it was because Sir, as headmaster, wanted to retain a separation, no matter how minor, between his position as school leader and his place as Yibo’s lover and Master. Corporal punishment for the other boys was rare but not unheard of, and spanking was the worst of it. Yibo hadn’t heard of it being done here. Not by Sir, anyway.

To face it now was—Yibo shuddered. 

Sir saw, and he smiled the most intimidating smile possible.

“Pants down, over my lap.”

“I don’t want to,” Yibo said, even as he opened his jeans with trembling fingers and hooked the waistband of them and his underwear with his thumbs. “It’s embarrassing.”

“That’s why it’s a punishment.” Sir smirked. “It will also hurt like hell.”

Sir took him by the arm and pulled him down. Yibo began to struggle. Sir pressed down between his shoulder blades to hold him in place. His other hand tugged Yibo’s clothes down and off his hips, baring his ass.

Yibo’s face flamed. “Sir—”

A hand slapped his ass, ringing loudly in the cavernous room. Yibo gasped and arched while heat bloomed across the struck cheek.

“Goldfish,” Sir said calmly, switching the hand on Yibo’s spine to the back of his neck. “That’s your safeword.”

Another slap came down, worse than the first. Then another landed, and another, bringing a climbing pain. Sir allowed him no breaks between, his hand like a metronome that Yibo began to brace against until suddenly it wasn’t. His strikes came down erratically, landing everywhere that Yibo seemed the most sensitive and when he was least prepared. The stinging pain felt like a hundred needles driving into his skin. Yibo’s voice broke. He couldn’t bear it.

Yet slowly, gradually, the pain began to melt and spread. It seeped into Yibo’s veins, filling his cock which had become hard at some point and begun digging into Sir’s thigh.

“You represent me and this academy,” Sir said while he continued to spank Yibo, pushing him into a rising tide of heat. “I send you out into the world because I’m proud of you and I want the world to see how perfect you are.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Yibo gasped. “I’m sorry. I should have done better.” He wiggled, trying to spare some skin, only to moan when his bare cock rubbed against Sir’s trousered leg.

“If the world sees that you’re better than perfect, that you’re cute in addition to being well-behaved—” Sir gripped Yibo’s flaming cheek and squeezed, “—then you might not be mine anymore. Do you understand?”

The pain was too much and yet Yibo didn’t know how to escape it. It was in his mind, circling and dizzying, painting the inside of his skull with light. It made his cock pulse and his balls throb, and put an arch into his back that drove his ass up against Sir’s massaging hand.

“I’ll always be…Sir’s,” he panted. He dug his fingers into the edge of the chair. “I promise. I swear it. I mean it!”

Sir didn’t relent, didn’t ease his strikes. Deep down, Yibo realized he didn’t want him to. This tug of pain and pleasure was new between them and more intimate than the ropes and feathers or the blindfolds and gags. Yibo could only succumb to the pain and the mastery. He hadn’t the will to fight either. He wanted both. Wanted to suffer for Sir, wanted to be important enough to Sir to deserve such attention from him.

He began to rock against Sir. The older man seemed to encourage it, moving his spanking to the base of Yibo’s ass, driving him upwards and forward so that Yibo fully humped him. Yibo was embarrassed for the picture he must present, but he was also too turned on to stop. He needed release and he needed Sir’s punishment. The two had become inextricably bound.

Sir seemed to understand and to sympathize. His cock was firm beneath Yibo’s hip. It overjoyed Yibo to know the man was as aroused as he by this. The pain climbed and Yibo didn’t resist it. He tossed out all pride and inhibition. His moans and cries turned to sobs and pleas. He didn’t know what he begged for, but trusted in Sir to know what he needed. He dropped his head in surrender.

His beret fell to the floor. Yibo immediately fumbled for the little hat and pulled it down over his head again so Sir wouldn’t have to do it. Sir made a funny little sound and suddenly thrust up from the chair, driving his erection against Yibo. With a tremulous moan, Yibo began to cum.

He wasn’t sexy about it. He humped wildly, thrusting his wet cock between Sir’s legs for as much friction as possible as his orgasm crested. Sir stopped spanking him and squeezed his flaming ass cheeks. It hurt, but it was also somehow comforting. As Yibo slumped, he whimpered only a little as Sir patted his butt.

“Such a good boy,” Sir said, sounding slightly breathless. “Perfect in every way.”

Yibo smiled and shifted. He was pleased to feel the damp fabric against his hip which told him Sir had also found release. Yibo loved making him feel good. It was what he was there for.

“Sir makes me want to be perfect for him,” Yibo admitted. He rested his cheek against the armrest of the chair and hummed appreciatively as Sir dragged his fingertips gently up his back. “Sir is so handsome and smart. So strong and determined. I want to be just like you.”

“For now, you can let me dress you up every once in a while.” Sir laughed lightly at himself. “Hopefully there’s another event coming up soon.”

“I’ll check the Yibo Official calendar, sir.” Yibo crossed his fingers that there were a thousand events on the horizon, no matter how stupid they were.

“I have to dress you up differently every time,” Sir explained. He still sounded amused. “It’s a personal challenge. I can’t repeat the same stage.”

“I understand, sir.”

“I know you do.” Sir’s tone turned fond. He stroked the back of Yibo’s head. “You’re just like me in many ways. I suppose that’s why I like you so much.”

Yibo smiled. “I could never be as cool as you, sir. I’ll settle with being cute. And funny.”

“Great,” Sir drawled, sounding aggrieved.

Yibo had never loved anyone more.


End file.
